


Unhinged and Disgusting

by butterflylovers



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Not at all canon so don't kill me lol, Oneshot, Posted originally from Mibba, Tanaka and Will are mentioned briefly lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-22
Updated: 2019-02-22
Packaged: 2019-11-03 22:51:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17886641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/butterflylovers/pseuds/butterflylovers
Summary: "It's unsightly, disgusting, repulsing... Unseemly...ugly...vicious. This is my true form."______A devilishly handsome butler finds himself in a rut.Title credit: You Make Me Sick by Of Mice and Men





	Unhinged and Disgusting

**Author's Note:**

> Decided to write Black Butler lol. If anyone notices, there's a handful of quotes from the manga and anime. >.> There's some quotes from the Black Butler Arc, the Circus Arc, Book of Murder, and the Luxury Liner Arc. Yet it somehow takes place after Book of Circus?? Work with me, friends, just know that it definitely is not canon lol.
> 
> Based loosely off a prompt someone gave me: "This character has always had the ability to change how they looked, and so they hid their true appearance behind attractive façades. Now, their abilities aren’t working, exposing what they truly look like."

There was something about one's appearance that seemed to matter to humans. You needed to be attracted to your partner in order to love them. If they groom themselves properly, they will deem trustworthy. It is said that disheveled clothes reflect a distracted mind. How one appears says a lot about where they’re from, what social status they belong to, and who they are in society.  
  
That was why Sebastian Michaelis made himself appear  _devilishly_  handsome (pun intended) in his human form. He must be well groomed, no imperfection on sight as he was the head butler of the Phantomhive household. When the time called to fulfill his young lord’s orders, his good looks would lead him to the art of seduction, if need be. If all one needed to rely on were their good looks, Sebastian might never need to worry a thing.  
  
It was almost sunrise, which meant that the rest of the Phantomhive staff would wake up soon to begin their duties. The demon was always awake at this hour before everyone else. He is the last to finish his work late at night, and the first to begin working in the morning, as it is his duty as the head butler. Besides, demons didn’t require sleep, although it was more for recreational purposes. He never slept, he was always protecting the manor from uninvited visitors who were constantly out to harm his young master. He wouldn’t allow these worthless humans to take away his meal.  
  
“Hmm, my hair has grown rather long,” he says, examining himself in the mirror. “What a pity. I cannot trim it as I please. Humans are most troublesome.” If only he could though, but he had to make himself slightly resemble the image of his young master’s deceased father in order to gain some sort of trust.  
  
As he is about to throw on his tailcoat, he realizes how his eyes suddenly appear. They were no longer red, like the familiar flames of hell. His irises were glowing fuchsia, and his pupil was slit like a cat. It was something he could control usually, but somehow his eyes were changing back and forth. The more he glared at his own reflection, the more he could sense that there was something wrong with him. He sighs heavily as he is able to turn his eyes back to human form and goes down the hall, knocking on the door.  
  
“Excuse me for one moment,” says a voice. After a moment, the door opens. “Sorry for the wait, what is it?”  
  
“Excuse me for waking you, Meyrin,” the demon apologies, his eyes looking soft so that the maid in front of him would believe him.  
  
“Sebastian!” the maid exclaims, a blush very much visible painted across her cheeks. “Oh my, you are here this early. It can only mean one thing—”  
  
He almost sighs in frustration at the giddiness of the maid. But he holds it back, not wanting to waste another moment. “Please calm yourself. There is something I need you to do.”  
  
“Oh right, certainly! That makes sense too.” The butler didn’t think it would be possible, but the maid seems to blush even more.  
  
He tries to slouch his back, his eyes sinking nearly shut to convey weakness. He even lets out a fake cough, anything to make the act more believable. “I’m afraid I am feeling ill, and I cannot tend to my duties. If it is no trouble, I would like for you and Tanaka to care for the young master in my place for the day, as we don’t want the young lord to fall ill as well.” She quickly nods her head at this. “My apologies for allowing this to happen, Meyrin.”  
  
“It’s okay Sebastian!” she exclaims, attempting to cheer him up. He always works so hard; he was bound to become weak as it was only  **human** , she’d thought. “You just rest well, Mr. Sebastian. We will take very good care of our young lord, yes we will!”  
  
“Very well, thank you, Meyrin.” He silently excuses himself, turning to leave. Before he takes another step further, he looks back at her with knowing eyes. “A word of advice, don’t be soon keen to open your door during this hour without knowing who’s waiting on the other side. You are a young woman, after all.”  
  
The burgundy haired maid is taken back by his statement, watching him walk out of her sight and back to his bedroom. “Absolutely, sir.”  
  


•──────⊰∙∘★⊹★∘∙⊱──────•

  
  
The demon hates to admit it, but he begins to grow worried about the sudden changes in his body as time went by. They weren’t necessarily unfamiliar changes, per se, but he was somehow retracting into his demon form. Sometime in the morning, his fangs were poking out. At first, it wasn’t a concern since that seemed to happen when he was hungry or excited. But time had gone by, and by noon, his teeth resembled the jaws of a great white shark. By the afternoon, he was met with an all too familiar figure.  
  
His hands had grown slightly in size, not too large but large enough that it ripped through his gloves. His sharp, black claws replaced his fingernails. All of his skin went from porcelain to jet black. His crowlike feathers, darker than the night sky, were ruffled in anguish. His demonic wings were stretched out, aching to be stretched out in its full form. The room was too small to let his wings breathe properly. He could see every inch of his bedroom since his head was littered with multiple eyeballs now, his irises the color of blood burning in flames. Eventually, he could no longer see the beige wallpaper. His eyes met the sight of his feathers falling like the bodies of his victims, his aura moves insidiously against the walls, aching to feel human flesh and bone being crushed. What was once his dress shoes transform themselves into high-heeled stiletto boots, hovering above the ground. His left hand contains his Faustian symbol, which glows like an amethyst stone under the sun.  
  
_"It's unsightly, disgusting, repulsing. Unseemly...ugly...vicious. This is my true form."_  He says to himself, his voice no longer being silky and baritone. Rather, it was hoarse and demonic. It would make anyone feel unhinged and cry out to God himself.  
  
He almost chuckles to himself as he thinks about what that aloof Grim Reaper, William T. Spears, said about him weeks prior.  _"You sway your prey with sweet words, all the while dragging them into the darkness. You devils are so good at it that, it's practically a cliché!"_  If only that reaper could see the demon now in his true form. Oh, how he would love to show him what it’s like to be dragged into the darkness. He didn’t need to use pretty words in order to break that damned reaper into pieces until his bones resembled shards of cheap glass.  
  
As night falls, he finds himself wondering how he will be able to turn himself back to his human form. There were rumors that if one went too long without devouring a soul that they could find themselves in the predicament of not being able to look human. There was even a rumor that some were unable to go into the human realm, being forced to starve to death. Whether or not that was true was another thing, as the demon never encountered another who was in the same situation he was in.  
  
_"I grew weary of indiscriminately devouring souls long ago. The more ravenous I am, the more delicious the dinner."_  
  
Ah, he remembers what he told that reaper weeks ago. How dare he assume that a demon like him would eat poor quality souls? Maybe a few centuries ago, when he was messily sampling every dish available. But he wanted a high-quality soul, one like his young lord, Ciel Phantomhive. One filled with anger, hatred, revenge. But if he didn’t change himself soon, would he ever be able to eat a soul as divine as his?  
  
His contract glows, illuminating the room once more. The demon could smell  _his_  soul edging closer and closer. His mouth practically drolls at the aroma of his meal. It was an aching pain at times, knowing that he couldn’t enjoy that boy’s soul until the contract was fulfilled. At times, the demon felt like a pathetic dog—being taunted with a treat right in front of him. He had to be a “good boy,” sitting there patiently until he was rewarded for his efforts.  
  
“Sebastian, open the door.” A demanding voice interrupts his thoughts. His contact symbol glows brighter, the only thing illuminating the room. “Sebastian, do you hear me? Open this door, that is an order!”  
  
_“Yes, my Lord._  
  
The young man carefully walks into the room, the atmosphere feeling infernal. His face is caressed by a dark aura, like a serpent slithering in the ground, and it almost makes him quake in fear. But the sapphire-eyed boy refuses to show that he’s intimidated. He never wants to give that sadistic beast the satisfaction.  
  
“Tanaka and Meyrin have informed that you were feeling ill. I had to see it for myself. I can’t believe a creature like you would ever be sick.” The room is dark, unable to find his butler anywhere. The darkness and silence were becoming annoying to him, somehow. “Sebastian, show yourself. I'm not in the mood to play your games.”  
  
Ciel steps backward at the sight, the doorknob digging into his spine. He feels almost numb at the sight, for it had been long since he’d seen that creature. It was as if he could feel the demon wipe away tear with his black talon like he did that night. Sebastian had opened his wine colored eyes, meeting his young master’s vulnerable sapphire one. He smiles at his fear, the aroma of his terror was intoxicating. It was as if someone smashed a bottle of perfume to the wall. This young human can pretend that he is unnerved at the grotesque sight of his butler, but there was no use in hiding it. Sebastian loved the fear, it reminded him of that day when he heard that glorious song falling from his young lord’s lips. The amidst sorrow, rage, confusion, and despair. Hurdling out the words of a curse and they fall like flames from his tongue, summoning to him.  
  
_“It seems that I need to have an appetizer before having my big meal, my Lord.”_  is all that the demon says, his feathers ruffling a bit at the sight of the Earl’s disgust.  
  
“You are forbidden to make contracts with others as long as ours is intact. That is a rule I made clear to you,” Ciel rebuts, eyes never darting away from the demon’s.  
  
_“Who said anything about a contract? Think of it as sampling.”_  A devilish smirk is formed onto his lips, feeding into his master’s annoyance.  _“I believe that I will be stuck like this if I do not eat a soul soon. I apologize for the inconvenience, my Lord.”_  
  
Ciel can feel his left eye glowing behind his eye patch. It practically calls out to him, letting him know how hungry that demon was. If he could, he would starve him just for the satisfaction. But that vile creature was his chess piece, his “knight,” moving to whatever square he wished in one fell swoop. In order to win this game, he needed his knight. He hates losing games; he won’t allow anything to bring him failure.  
  
“Very well then,” he states firmly, looking away from the demon. “But do it quick. I expect you to be there to bring me my late night tea.”  
  
Sebastian’s eyes glow fuschia once more, his aura retreating away from his younger master’s body.  _“As you wish, my Lord.”_  
  
He watches as the young human exits his room. He will have his snack for now, but he will wait for the grand meal. When the time has come, and victory turns into despair, Ciel’s soul  _will_  be his. He had no doubt that it will surely be at its most mouthwatering delectable.

 


End file.
